My Brother, Altair
by StuffRocksInnit
Summary: "My brother, Altair. My brother." Altair smirked. "I know." Malik is horrified when he discovers the relationship between Altair and his baby brother.


**A/N/: Yes, I was reading kink. And I thought up some pervy fantasies. Bad Altair! Much sympathy for Kadar in this fic. Sorry Kadar ;). **

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"My brother, Altair. _My brother._"

Altair smirked. "I know."

Malik was livid. So angry, he could barely keep from hitting the stupid bastard sitting in front of him. Altair was smirking at him across the main room of the bureau, so _damn smug. _Malik rubbed his eyes with two fingers. "Why, Altair? Why _him_?"

Altair smirked again. "Because he's so pretty, obviously, Malik."

Malik shot across the room and grabbed the front of the younger Assassin's robes, snarling into his face. "Bastard! _Bastard! How dare you?"_

"How dare I what?" Altair breathed, his hot breath sweeping across Malik's face. "Take your brother? Because I could, Malik. Because he was there," Altair's eyes became wicked, "and because he _offered himself to me."_

Malik hit him. Punched him, hard, on the right side of his face, an angry roar escaping his mouth unchecked. Altair looked back up at him, a smile on his aching face. "But do you want to know why?" he asked softly.

Malik hissed through his teeth. Altair took that as a yes.

"Because he looks like you, Malik." The older brother stared at him, uncomprehending. "Because he has your eyes. His face looks like yours. When I'm with him," Altair leaned forward, breathing in Malik's face, "I can pretend he's you, Malik. When I take him, I can imagine it's _you_." Malik spluttered, drawing back from him in horror. "Does that thought disturb you, Malik?" Altair asked.

"You...you...How could you?" Malik's voice rose again, anger colouring it red. "How can you do that to my brother?"

"He understands."

"_He understands?_" Malik howled. "He _understands _that you use him for some perverted fantasy? He _understands _that you want his brother more than him, and he's used as a mere substitute for-for-_me_?"

"If it makes you uncomfortable," Altair said slyly, "why don't you take his place?" Altair sidled up to him, pressing against him softly but firmly. Malik choked on his indrawn breath, pulling away sharply. Altair looked at him with wide eyes, pouting his lips slightly. "You're happy for Kadar to keep being your replacement, then?" he said teasingly.

"I would never _touch _you. You're disgusting, _disgusting_." Malik backed away, and almost ran for the enterance to the bureau.

When he was gone, Altair smirked and looked towards a side door. Kadar appeared, looking nervous. "What did he say?" he whispered.

"He was disgusted," Altair said with relish.

Kadar frowned, his face uncomfortable. "Why do you savour his revulsion, Altair?" he asked quietly.

Altair turned and scowled at him. "Do you need to know the reasons behind my actions?" he asked harshly.

Kadar straightened his shoulders, deciding to stand up to him. "Yes, I do."

Altair grinned. "Then know this; I take such delight in his disgust because it makes me smile. You know why? Because I know he wants it, really. Beneath his prejudice and adversity, he wants it so bad it scares him." Altair laughed.

Kadar looked insecure. "You don't really feel anything for me, do you, Altair?"

Altair looked thoughtful. "No, Kadar, that's not true. I feel grateful to you, for putting up with me. You know I desire you."

"No, Altair." Kadar's voice was tinged with bitter hopelessness. "You desire my brother, and you take me because you can imagine it's him."

Altair pulled Kadar's hood back from his head and traced his lips with a finger. "But you don't regret it, do you? You don't regret the pleasure. You know you wouldn't give it up."

Kadar gasped softly as Altair traced a finger along the inside of his thigh. "_I hate you_," he hissed through clenched teeth, and Altair just laughed. He pulled Kadar away, drawing him down onto a bed and making hot love, hearing Kadar's gasps and moans, feeling him shudder under him and whispering 'Malik,' through a haze of bitter pleasure as he reached the end.


End file.
